


You've Got a Friend

by The Lucky Bard (renieflorian)



Category: Dragon Age - Various Authors, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Action/Adventure, Gen, Original Character(s), Original Character-centric, POV Original Character, University of Orlais
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:01:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25022080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/renieflorian/pseuds/The%20Lucky%20Bard
Summary: When the world is falling apart, we find support in places where we least expect it. The journey of the young elven researcher Renée as an agent of the newly reformed Inquisition begins after leaving behind her academic life at the University of Orlais seeking recognition. But she did not expect her life to take such an unexpected turn.This series was named after Carole King's songYou've Got a Friend--Twitter:the_luckybardInstagram:renatacunhartTumblr:theluckybard
Comments: 14
Kudos: 9





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place during the events related to the quest "In Your Heart Shall Burn" (Dragon Age: Inquisition)

"Here are the samples you ordered." The silver-haired Dalish elf set down a bag full of rock chunks and minerals over the workbench in the requisition tent, a collection taken during his last mission to the Hintherlands the day before. "Is it enough for you?"

The young elf, a member of clan Lavellan, and who was called the 'Herald of Andraste', caused some curiosity in Renée. Not for belonging to the elven people who still strictly followed their tradition and were labeled 'savage' by many, and she, instead, being an elf who was born and raised in the alienage of the city of Amaranthine. Actually, she was uncertain whether her confrere's current position was really a blessing or a curse for him. The countless times she caught many of the inquisition soldiers and villagers from Haven curse the origin of the herald, or the hundreds of reproachful looks, brought a certain revulsion in the city elf, but also a sense of pride. It must have been challenging for them to face a 'knife ear' as their savior, especially one sent by Andraste herself, as believed.

"Maybe you should take me along in your next missions, Herald." Renée observed the interior of the bag, trying to sound polite, but showing a clear disdain look on her face. "Did you record the origin of these samples on the map, as I taught you?"

The herald sighed impatiently. "When you learn to wield a sword or use a bow, I might consider this possibility. You know these missions are dangerous, don't you?" He pulled out a crumpled map from another travel bag. "I marked some, I don't know if this looks right. We had to hurry at some points because of bears and wolves.”

Renée shook her head and took a deep breath. "So they are useless." She tried to maintain her serenity, but the words fled like arrows from her lips. "I can't chart the occurrences if I don't know where the samples come from!"

Lavellan, startled, stared at her with widened eyes. "Are you always grumpy like that?" A subtle, mocking smile sprang up on his face. "Look, Ren- Can I call you _Ren_?"

The elf maiden was caught by surprise. Completely awkward, she shuffled her notes on the bench nervously, avoiding his gaze. Realizing he seemed to be in a hurry and not fully available to only satisfy her academic methodological over-refinements, she retreated.

"I… uh… Herald… Just tell me what I need to do to be able to accompany you on your future missions."

Noticing the researcher's hesitation, Lavellan decided not to pester her anymore. "Right. Talk to Commander Cullen. He may refer you to the training soldiers at their camp. And then, you can pick your weapon of choice.”

Restless, the herald moved away from her and reinforced "Do it soon, Ren… maybe you’re right. You really should work on these maps yourself." He moved swiftly towards the chantry but stopped halfway and shouted out back to her again, "But you must learn to fight first!"

Before Renée could notice, Lavellan had disappeared hurriedly through the building's main porch.

"Ren…" The researcher repeated her new nickname quietly. "Doesn't Renée sound elven enough to you, Herald?" Her face flushed as she checked the samples. "Right. I'm going to talk to this Cullen…" As searching for a spark of willpower, she took a deep breath, watching the big gate that led to the soldiers' camp. In the distance, she could hear the clatter of the blades of soldiers in training being hit against each other, and that made her shiver. The sound of war was something she was trying to avoid since the last Blight, when she barely reached her teenage years in her last days in Amaranthine.

"But not today…"

While Renée was trying to understand Lavellan's scribbles on the map he handed her and brooding over learning to use a sword or not, one of the inquisition officers, quartermaster Threnn, entered the tent with a correspondence, interrupting her.

“Renée, this came to you shortly. It's from the University of Orlais.”

The institution’s name caused some chills on her and brought an awful feeling. Hesitating, she picked up the mail and acknowledged Threnn with a brief nod, waiting for the quartermaster to leave before she could read its content. It was a letter from her colleague Colette who, like Renée, was one of the few elven researchers who managed to get a position at the University. Recognizing the source of the message, Renée breathed a sigh of relief, letting a faint smile show up on her face.

_“Dear Renée,_

_I send this message in order to get some news from you. How is work going with the inquisition? I’ve heard that Haven is very cold and dry, and I know you’re not so fond of that particular environment._

_You’ve been sorely missed here. However, forgive me for mentioning, Professor Jacquemoud still avoids even hearing your name at any circumstances. Well, you know how upset he was about your departure, but I think all this acting is just his way of showing how important you are to him and how he values your work. Professor Kenric has been talking to him mostly, so these are the news I got from him. But I believe one day professor Jac will forgive you, yes. So, as I imagine, he expects you to forgive him too. You know, sometimes, in the midst of nervousness, people say things that are not really intended._

_I also want to mention that research on the Tevene ruins in Frostback Basin we talked about shortly before you left. Professor Kenric is trying to manage an expedition, although the resources to make it feasible are still pretty scarce, but I think we will find out how to do it. We are all very excited about this. You should know how we wish you were there with us! We couldn't think of anyone else who could give us the best support in the raw material of historical artifacts..._

_Before concluding this message, I would like you to know how much I admire your courage in leaving it all here to make your name for a greater good. I still feel comfortable in this situation, but I am hopeful that we elves will still be valued for our work, one day._

_Take care, my friend. I hope to see you around here again someday soon._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Colette”_

Those words from her friend triggered a series of feelings in the elf’s heart. Longing, anger, regret, inspiration. Renée wondered if what she did was really an act of bravery or a simple matter of selfishness. If the one truly brave would actually be Colette and not her, for facing all the problems in the academy head-on, with hope, and not fleeing to a catastrophic, though heroic, mission that she wasn’t even sure she would ever come back alive, or worse, never be acknowledged for.

The elf sat beside the bench and observed all those colorful samples, scratchy notes and maps, and her mind wandered for a moment. “Professor Jacquemoud will never forgive me. But I can’t go back now to fix all this mess.”

At that instant, a frenzy of guards in front of the requisition tent interrupted her short digression .

_“The herald is going to try to close the breach! Commander Cullen wants mages assembled in front of the main gate!”_

Renée moved away from the tent to spot the giant, green vortex that covered much of the sky over Haven. "That… _huge_ thing." The sound of thunder emanating from that dark manifestation was frightening and the elf, deep in her soul, feared for the herald. "Can he do it?" She pondered.

"We have to believe he can, don't we?" answered coldly the quartermaster Threnn, following Renée's contemplation.

The rush of soldiers and agents took on intense proportions and, within a few minutes, the chantry gateway swung open and the party responsible for accompanying the herald on this last mission appeared striking, followed by the Dalish elf himself at the rearguard. Lavellan was wearing his magnificent mage's armor and wielding his effulgent staff. That vision brought on a certain confidence to Renée, although many of her close co-workers seemed much more uncertain.

"I believe him."

Renée reinforced her belief in the herald, and kept watching the elf's steps towards the main gate. If the place and time to start changing the human minds in relation to elves exists, this could be the right opportunity.

  
  
  


***

  
  
  


The day dragged on. All who remained in Haven seemed oblivious to their own activities and watched the sky very often, which was still boasting the great frightening vortex. The thunderous sounds seemed even louder, as if that thing knew what was coming forth, that someone was on its way to stop all that demonic fury.

It was often possible to hear side conversations from all kinds of people all over the village, doubting the herald's success in this mission. And this was making Renée more impatient than usual.

"I need a drink." the elf muttered breathlessly, walking out of her tent.

"Renée!" Threnn called when she noticed the elf's hurried escape. “Are you going to stop by the chantry? I need…”

“Chantry? No. I’m gonna drink,” interrupted the researcher. "Do you want anything from the tavern?"

The quartermaster, disbelieving the woman's boldness, repressed her. “Drinking during office hours?”

Renée shook her head in indignation and took a deep breath. Her chest felt so heavy and tight that the sound of inhaling air could be heard by the officer. “I can’t, Threnn. I’m sorry, I'm not a soldier like you. I need to clear up my mind a little.” Her voice left her trembling and pale lips on a weak exhale.

Almost sympathizing with the elf, Threnn waved her hands in silence, consenting to the realization of the researcher's original plan. Renée just stared at the quartermaster with paralyzed eyes of fear and clenched jaws, turning in silence to the path that led to the tavern.

  
  
  


***

  
  
  


Maryden's voice sounded as a solace the moment Renée walked into the 'Herald's Rest'.

"How does this woman manage to sing in the middle of all this chaos?" Renée wondered. 

The customers inside the tavern seemed to be quite unaware of the current situation. Perhaps they only sought to get inebriated, a way to keep themselves mentally away from the imminent threat of catastrophe, or they weren’t absolutely concerned with their own future. Some were already quite distant from this world, with their heads lying over the table, occasionally manifesting a few spasms, confirming a sparkle of life on their bodies. Others, maybe contrary to what might be desired, embraced each other, singing along with the bard and their faces covered in tears.

Renée almost regretted the decision to drown her sorrows in this place, but decided not to back down.

“Hi, Flissa. Eh-" she muttered, approaching the counter unsteadily, "would you have something to help spend time with less… anguish?”

The bartender smiled at her client's order. “Hi, Renée! Busy day, isn't it?” The tavern owner, seeming quite peaceful, placed a small mug near the elf without hesitation. "Let me see here-" She delved carefully into the shelf with a finger, a small selection containing a few bottles of wine and beer, and others storing somewhat dubious content. She chose a little dusty one seeming to have never been served before. “As I care about you, and I know you are still on duty, I believe the moment calls for this smoother selection,” she said, pouring some of the liquid into the elf's vessel. “This should help you relax a bit.”

Renée took a deep breath, saluted Flissa, and gulped down the entire drink in one go. The burning liquid tearing her throat broke out a suppressed curse. "Smooth my ass!" Her grimace made Flissa burst out with a contagious laugh, while Renée still contorted her face.

"Now, wait for the effect." The bartender happily removed the empty mug. "Another dose?"

"No way!" Renée replied, surrendering herself to a loose laughter at the situation.

"See? Goal accomplished!” Flissa leaned on the counter next to the elf. "After a storm comes a calm."

Renée felt her shoulders slightly leaden, a relaxation she hadn't felt in days. "That’s what is expected, isn't it?" A faint smile broke across her face.

"Allow me to ask you something, my friend…" The woman took advantage of her client’s current easiness, a curiosity that was emerging while her friendship with the elf was flourishing during their time in Haven. "Do you believe in the Maker?"

The sudden, shocking question woke the elf from her mild alcoholic torpor. “I… don't know? Why the question?"

Flissa waved her hands in shock, noticing the resulting discomfort in her friend. “I’m sorry! This isn’t supposed to be a religious inquiry!" Sighing, she tried to find a way to lighten the fraught atmosphere. "I understand that, in your situation… I mean, because you’re a lettered person-" in silence, Renée kept trying to follow the woman's line of thought, intrigued. "What I meant to say is, besides alcohol, where do you find encouragement in these distressful situations… well, _spiritually_?”

The elf smiled kindly, thinking of a better way to approach the issue. "You know that our people were forced to follow other deities apart from the original elven Pantheon, don't you?" The inquiry provoked an expression of dismay in the attendant, and Renée tried to fix it. “Hey, I'm not condemning you humans today for what happened in the past. Please don't feel guilty.” Flissa smiled in relief, though still with a concerning countenance, waiting patiently for the elf’s conclusion. “Many of us, the elves who currently live their lives in the cities, are devotees of Andraste. And they are happy with that. I suppose.”

Renée's analysis was interrupted by an unexpected toast offered to the herald, a widespread racket of mugs being beaten against each other and calls for early victory. Both maidens smiled as they witnessed this spark of optimism in those people.

"But what about you, Renée?" Flissa brought the subject again.

The elf smiled at the barkeeper. "I think I got lost along the way." Contemplating the celebration with admiration, Renée concluded, “Neither Andraste, nor elven deities. I believe in people.”

Flissa nodded, choosing not to delve further into a topic apparently so delicate for her client. At this moment, a commotion outside the tavern could be heard from a distance. Renée shivered and hurried to understand the origin of the fuss. Her attention was quickly guided towards the great breach in the sky. Or where it should be. In place, only a few visible scars, but the great green vortex was gone.

_“The herald sealed the breach!”_

There was a great furor in front of the chantry, so Renée rushed to her station urgently, meeting quartermaster Threnn and a group of soldiers and other people excited about the mission outcome.

"Looks like the bastard did it." The officer glanced at Renée, who was approaching demanding more news.

"Well, that's all we know for now." Threnn pointed out, gesturing to the sky.

  
  
  


***

  
  
  


The return of the team was greatly celebrated. Lavellan exhibited a tired countenance, but the group didn’t surrender to the commemorations as demanded by the people, nor to the resting possibility. On the contrary, they moved directly to the war room, as it was still necessary to assess whether the effects of the herald's action in closing the breach were even effective.

Only when the last rays of sunlight were seen over Haven, Lavellan finally emerged through the chantry porch, heading with weary steps towards a small crowd who sang and danced near the big main gate. Renée was organizing her last chores in the requisition tent to retire to her quarters.

"Aren't you going to stay for the celebration?" asked the herald as soon as he noticed her.

Startled, Renée smiled. “Oh, no… I don't think so. Today was a tiring day."

"I can’t even imagine." Lavellan inspected the rock patches on the countertop carelessly.

Renée, disbelieving her lack of empathy, hit her own forehead. "I can’t believe… how stupid I am-" she muttered to herself. "Sorry, herald... I-"

"Fenlaros-" he corrected. "We have been working on these maps together for so many months... Does it bother you to use my name?"

Renée remained silent, unsure whether Lavellan was being really serious or sarcastic, as usually he was . After all, absolutely _everyone_ called him… _the Herald_. The expression on his face was immutable, and he kept staring at her.

"Right. You’re not kidding. ” She turned crimson.

"So…?" Lavellan teased.

"Fenlaros... then." Renée’s voice was shaky and weak and she struggled to look away from those staring pale gray eyes.

"Much better!" he smiled excited, walking out of the tent. “Come, let's take a look at the celebrations more closely. Leave it.”

Renée hesitated. "Sorry, heral- eh... Fenlaros." She looked down, pronouncing his name syllabe after syllabe, slowly. “I really appreciate the invitation, but I need to-” She shook her head and sighed. “Today was a tricky day, you know…”

"Okay, okay. You don't need to apologize.” Lavellan interrupted again.

“It's just… Don't you think it's too early to celebrate? I mean, you deserve it, of course, but-”

Fenlaros looked at her soberly. “No, I understand. You’re right. We have to remain vigilant.”

“I shouldn't… Ah. Forget it," she mumbled, moving away from him. "I don't want to spoil your day. Go and have fun, please.” Turning away with hasty steps, she headed back to her quarters.

  
  
  


***

  
  
  


“Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!” Renée stepped in a hurry, her eyes down and hands in tight fists. “The guy just wanted to be nice and you act like this? FENEDHIS!”

The Elvish curse sounded louder than she had intended and a restrained chuckle and sounds of light footsteps approaching were heard behind her back. She startled.

"Forgive me, I did not intend to frighten you." The bald mage elf who shared the neighborhood with the researcher still displayed a smirk on his face, approaching her with a resolute walk. “I did not know you were well-versed in the Elvhen language, professor. Or am I overestimating your knowledge based on a single specific saying?”

Renée watched the mage surprised by his boldness, stunned in her path. Although their accommodations were contiguous, he never interacted to her before, while she tried countless times, but failed. The evasiveness was an attitude she considered quite arrogant of him.

"It’s not the only _thing_ I know in Elvish," she replied in annoyance.

"Remarkable." The elf stared at her aloof, and kept walking.

"My grandmother used to teach me these things," she said, following after him. "She was Dalish." Renée rolled her eyes, aware that too much information in this case would be useless. She rushed and crossed forwards the mage’s path. Mocking a bow, she intended to put an end to the conversation. “Anyway. Good evening, sir!"

"Did your grandmother teach you these obscenities?" he asked, giving her a reproachful look.

"Listen... Solas, right?" Reaching the limit of her patience, Renée turned to meet the mage’s eyes, scowling and facing him with her hands on her waist. She searched for the right words to strike back. None came up.

“Observant. I sense your grandmother's blood in your keenness. Fiery spirit.” Solas interrupted smiling and approaching her. “Forgive my lack of manners. We really never had the opportunity to talk. You are responsible for the requisitions on geostudies matters, correct?” The mage’s tone was gentler.

" _Observant ,_ " she repeated. "Yes, I am the researcher who’s… trying… to produce some maps on ore occurrences.” Renée crossed her arms and looked away disgusted.

"Trying?" The mage seemed legitimately intrigued.

"Yes. The herald... I mean... Fenlaros... well, whatever. He refuses to take me with him on his missions, claiming I need to learn to fight first," she said with apprehension. "Sorry, I shouldn't be telling you these things."

“But he is right. He cares about you,” Solas pointed out with a grin. "It is noticeable the way he searches for you when he comes to speak to me."

Renée's heart skipped a beat. "Sorry, but you must be mistaken."

Solas laughed. "I am rarely mistaken, miss."

The researcher remained silent, watching the mage's expression. He didn't seem to be kidding, but that excess of information seemed too much to be believable. "You're not helping..." Renée giggled nervously, but she froze as soon as they both heard the sound of distant bells followed by a growing disturbance at Haven’s main gate. She blanched when she noticed Solas uneasiness while witnessing a cluster of torches descending the mountains in the distance.

"It cannot be..." The mage muttered, his gaze fixed on a hill not far away, where two shadowy figures emerged at its top. "Seek a refuge. Now." He demanded restless, rushing towards the main gate.

Renée remained frozen after his order. The sound of the crowd coming down the mountains towards Haven has grown alarmingly and then she could hear Commander Cullen from a distance, loudly, sanctioning the attack against the invaders.

_"Inquisition! With the herald! For your lives! For all of us!”_

Realizing the gravity of the situation, the elf finally darted towards the chantry, the only place she thought would be safer to go. There were already a considerable number of people inside, but most Haven villagers still seemed to be unaware of the danger and were still watching the battle from a safe distance outside the building.

“Templars.” A voice with a noticeable forced obscure tone came from behind the pillars at the side nave. “We’ll all feel a taste of rage from these bastards. At their worst.”

Renée turned to search for the interlocutor. A mage with a confident smile on her face, something far more friendly than the perverse first impression, her staff sheathed behind her back and wearing the typical mage’s robe from the Circle of Magi. The elf just returned the smile with apprehension, looking around suspiciously.

“I don't want to scare you. But this isn’t going to be nice,” the mage continued.

"You seem to know too much-" Renée jumped when the chantry door swung open and another wave of villagers went in terrified. Sounds of explosions and screams were heard outside.

“Agnes! My name is Agnes. Don't mind, sometimes my brain works a little too quickly… And I end up forgetting some etiquette rules.” The woman giggled extending her hand to Renée, still showing a lot of confidence in the midst of all that uproar.

"I... I'm R-"

Commander Cullen came after the last group that had just arrived, interrupting the elf’s introduction.

“Everyone stay inside the chantry! There is... a dragon... besides everything else… outside,” he shouted, trying to force himself to believe his own words. “Let's wait for the injured.” The expression on Commander's face was not encouraging.

“Dragon?” Renée asked herself quietly. “My maps... my notes.” All of a sudden, the elf realized all the material she had produced during these months of work with the inquisition was about to turn to ashes with just a breath from that creature outside. Much of this material was stored in her quarters and her blood froze at the thought of losing it all. She ran to the door, but Cullen was still blocking the exit.

“Let me out!” Renée demanded in despair.

“Are you crazy? Did you hear what I just said?” Cullen took the researcher by the arm.

“My work! All my research is... out there! Let me out!” The elf tried to get rid of the Commander’s grasp.

“Forget it! That's an order!” Cullen glared at her, tightening his grip.

“LET ME GO!” Renée yelled, pushing the Commander harshly.

Wishing to avoid aggravating the situation even more, Cullen released the elf reluctantly. She darted outside like a thunderbolt. “Maker's breath! May He protect you then...”

Agnes approached the Commander, a recriminating look on her face. "That must be hard not to be able to use all that Templar authority, isn't it?"

The Commander watched the mage in silence, puzzled. "I am no longer a Templar," he replied hesitantly.

Agnes snickered and shook her head. “Leave it to me. I’ll look for the rebel elf myself. I assure you my methods are much more… _humane_.”

Cullen swallowed nervously and moved away from the door with hesitation so the mage could pass.

  
  
  


***

  
  
  


The air outside was much hotter and heavier. The sound of fighting, burning shacks and desperate screams from people everywhere was intimidating, making Renée hesitate for a moment, but she pushed herself to keep walking. She tried to sneak into her quarters from behind the building, stealthily. A gigantic shadow glided over her head and she ducked as an instinctive reaction.

“ _Archdemon._ ”

The memories of the Fifth Blight crashed into her mind like a landslide, particularly those later grievous months in Amaranthine after the creature was defeated by the Hero of Ferelden. Her legs collapsed and she felt her head spin. A loud buzzing in her ears suffocated all other noises around and she could hear her heart beating fast and loud inside her head.

“Please, not now...” Renée prayed with eyes shut. She inhaled deeply and stood up, running clumsily to the entrance of her accommodation.

The place was dark, save for a red glimmer coming from the flames outside. She started groping for her belongings all above the furniture, grabbing some maps and loose notes when she suddenly froze after a huge shadow projected on the wall right in front of her.

“ _If you're a good girl, I’ll spare you._ ”

A deep, demonic voice came from behind her back. Renée turned to meet the speaker, a Templar with blood-red eyes, his skin resembling that of a deceased body, all in a grayish tone and with scars filled in veins reminding of a reddish mineral. The elf gasped and dropped all the material she had gathered.

“Where's the Herald?” The creature approached Renée ominously.

In an outburst of courage, Renée advanced upon the Templar, trying to push him with violence. “Fuck you!!”

The creature didn't move an inch, laughing at her frustrated attempt. Effortlessly, the man grabbed her by the hair with just one of his hands and brought her face close to his. She could see a small spark of life in his crimson eyes, but a humanity that has been abandoned for long ago.

“Useless,” he grumbled in a dark tone, throwing the elf merciless against the furniture on the other side of the room. Renée's body collapsed motionless after the collision, frail, and the man admired his deed with macabre pleasure.

“Stay away from the elf, you bastard!” Still outside the room, Agnes sneaked up, pointing her staff at the Templar with a look of disgust on her face.

The creature turned unhurriedly towards the mage with a mocking look on his disfigured face, unsheathing his sword and tracing unpretentious yet threatening circles with the blade. “Your friend is gone. You will be the next if you continue to hinder-”

Far from wanting to allow the Templar to finish his speech, and with her long gone patience, Agnes transformed the creature into ashes after a series of quick and continuous shots. The energy obtained from the Veil with apparent ease still danced all over the atmosphere after she ended her attack.

“Filthy,” she spitted.

Renée's slight body lay motionless on the other side of the room, the furniture she was thrown against had the door shattered by the force of the impact. Agnes ran to her assistance, looking for signs of life. The elf moaned weakly.

“You are tiny, but you are tough!” the mage confirmed, placing one of her arms over her shoulder. “Let's get out of here.”

Leaving the lodging, Agnes realized more people remained in the nearby dwelling, where the apothecary's facility operated. “What are these people still doing here?” Seconds later, the dragon flew over in another sweep, setting all the wooden buildings on fire.

“Run you fools!!” bawled the mage, sprinting from the flames towards the chantry.

  
  
  


***

  
  
  


A desperate claim for help was heard outside the Chantry and the door was burst open, revealing Agnes carrying Renée unconscious in her arms. Cullen rushed over them, his face displaying a mix of worry and indignation.

“Don't even start talking,” Agnes interfered before the Commander initiated a speech.

Cullen followed the mage hesitantly with a worried look. “How bad is she?”

“Ah, I don't know... she was thrown hard against a furniture, but I think she will survive.” Not paying much attention to the Commander, the mage carried Renée to the side nave, placing her injured body gently on the ground.

“Maker’s br-”

“Ah, come on! Maker isn’t going to help now. Leave it to me,” she interrupted him impatiently.

Cullen sighed and lowered his head. “I-”

Agnes stared at him steadily, reproachful, a visible warning for him to remain shut. She then turned back to start the healing magic procedure on the unconscious elf.

“I just wanted to mention that... I remember you from the Circle,” he said, ignoring the mage's objection, head down, his voice in a different tone he used to use with his soldiers. “I’ve changed. I've changed a lot.” Cullen concluded.

Agnes just took a deep breath. “Good for you!” She glanced at him with a simulated smile returning again to her healing work.

The dialogue attempt was interrupted by the arrival of the herald along with the remaining survivors from Haven and Cullen, realizing he shouldn't bother her more, left to meet him.

“I'm sorry to cause this embarrassment between you... and the Commander.” Renée finally opened her eyes, babbling feeble.

Agnes noticed the freshly recovered elf with joy. “Hey, silly elf! You came back! There were some beautiful broken ribs here, huh?”

Renée smiled. “Sorry about that too.”

“You apologize a lot, eh-”

“Renée. My name is Renée.” She introduced herself at last, trying to sit up.

“About the Commander… don't mind. This guy is an asshole. If it was up to him, half of the Circle's mages would have been exterminated during the last Blight,” muttered Agnes, helping the elf to stand.

“But that was a long ago... can't he have truly changed?” suggested the elf, moving her body in admiration for feeling not as much pain she should be feeling for all those broken ribs the mage mentioned.

“Perhaps,” Agnes sighed. “Anyways... I got some of your notes from your quarters, I don't know if-”

Renée's eyes widened, surprised to have a piece of her research safe in her hands again. “Wow, Agnes… thank you so much! Really. I may repay you one day for this.” Watching her notes, page by page, Renée wondered if all of this was really worth the risk. But she decided to keep the thought to herself and just remained grateful, sending a warm smile to the mage. 

Agnes smiled back in retribution. “Well, you can buy me some beers later... if we escape alive from here.”


	2. You've Got a Friend - The Flight from Haven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the world is falling apart, we find support in places where we least expect it. The journey of the young elven researcher Renée as an agent of the newly reformed Inquisition begins after leaving behind her academic life at the University of Orlais seeking for recognition. But she did not expect her life to take such an unexpected turn.
> 
> After the assault on Haven by Corypheus and the red Templars, villagers alongside the inquisition agents managed to escape by a secret passage though the Chantry while the Herald of Andraste, Fenlaros Lavellan, stayed behind to deal with the enemy . Friendship between Renée and the mage Agnes is starting to flourish, but some secrets may risk the future of the researcher in the Inquisition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story takes place during the events related to the quest "In Your Heart Shall Burn" (Dragon Age: Inquisition)

The flight from Haven was abruptly interrupted by a loud crash from the mountains close to the village that had been left behind. The refugees had recently crossed the secret path indicated by the weakened Chancellor Roderick, and the heard noise frightened the group and prevented them from keep walking. The disaggregation was avoided by constant orders from Commander Cullen to move forward, although he himself looked towards the Chantry direction, time and again, hoping to contemplate the figure of the Herald, safe, bursting from its ruins.

The blizzard was falling severely and the path became more hostile after each step. A colossal mountain range surrounded the refugees, the high snow-capped peaks with bare rocks lacking any kind of vegetation rose like towering walls, while the valley between was the stage for an extensive white and deep snowy river. The march became slow-paced and many of the injured who followed the route slowly began to desire resignation. After a long while, the trailblazers who were leading small groups so less would be lost during the travel, successively encouraged their flock, but the general exhaustion was already evident.

“We need to find a place to set up a camp, Cullen. Urgently,” Leliana stressed. “These people are in need to get nursed on their injuries and have some rest.” The spymaster assessed the refugees from distance, her keen eyes pointed to the widespread vulnerability of soldiers and villagers, and that worried her.

“Do you think I haven’t been thinking about it in a while?” The ex-templar revealed a distressed countenance, greatly for the situation emphasized by the spymaster but also, and mostly, due to the absence of news from the Herald. Lavellan stayed behind in an attempt to outwit Corypheus, the Red Templars and his dragon so that the villagers and Inquisition officers could safely escape the assault. A suicidal plan, Cullen deemed, and the idea that the elf mage would be unable to save himself was consuming the Commander’s soul.

Renée and Agnes walked side by side, joining the group led by Cassandra, the Nevarran warrior and seeker of the Chantry. The elf followed the entire path in silence, her gaze focused only on where her next step would be taken. Agnes could hear the researcher’s irregular breathing, but she was afraid to ask if it was just fatigue from the cold and the irregular path, or if something else was tormenting her. A close bark was heard nearby and both girls got startled.

“Droolius! What did you find there?” A medium-sized hairy dog hopped happily around Agnes legs holding a stick in his mouth. “It’s not the right moment for this, partner.” The mage tried to take the object from the animal, who complained with a friendly growl before releasing it. The dog then sprinted forwards anticipating the toss from his human friend.

“So cute. Is he yours?” Renée felt compelled to comment on the furry creature.

Agnes smiled almost relieved for being saved from that awkward silence. “Droolius Caesar? He thinks I am his.” She tossed the stick but the dog was already far away, waiting eagerly for his unique toy.

“Droolius Caesar.” The elf giggled. “What a… peculiar name.”

A tender smile broke into Agnes’ face. “Me and… a friend from, well... _the Circle_ … We made a list of possible pets’ names once.”

Renée noticed the mage’s cheeks turn red. “But it was not allowed to own animals in the Circle, was it?”

Agnes sighed. “No, it wasn’t. That’s why we made this list. He did a huge one for his imaginary cats.” The mage rejoiced at the memory. “And all of the names I came up with, _Droolius_ was his favorite. So, I ended up calling this guy here in honor of him.”

The elf faltered, not sure whether to question or not. “That friend of yours… is he-“

Agnes’s eyes widened appalled. “No, no! He’s still alive… I suppose-”

“ _I suppose_?” Renée repeated puzzled, but immediately backed away, noticing the mage’s discomfort. “Ah… I shouldn’t… I’m sorry.”

“No worries. It’s alright.” A stilted smile on Agnes’s lips denounced the opposite.

“You should try to communicate with him… Maybe?” The elf’s options to sound friendly were running out. “We could use one of Leliana’s birds-“

“NO!” Agnes objected jittery. Her reaction made Renée stare at her in bewilderment, speechless. Shocked by her own rudeness, the mage stepped back, holding one of the researcher’s arms. “Andraste’s holy panties, please forgive my bad manners, elf! I-“

Still not sure how to cope with the subject, Renée watched her in astonishment. “No problem at all… I shouldn’t have-“

Agnes stopped suddenly in front of the elf, now holding her by both arms. Some people who was following behind bumped against them. “Listen. I… I promise I’ll tell you what’s going on-“ She took a deep breath, looking straight into the elf’s eyes “the thing is a bit… _tricky_ … you know…”

Confused, Renée watched the mage intently. “Look, you don’t have to, if you don’t feel like-“

“It turns out that I _need it_. Pretty much.” Distressed, Agnes interrupted her. “Believe me. This is killing me.”

“Well,” the elf chuckled uncomfortably, “all right, then. What are we dealing with? A thug or something?” she jested.

Agnes frowned embarrassed with a tremulous smile on her lips.

“Oh… crap.” Realizing that it wasn’t really a joke, Renée swore with a troubled look pretty evident on her face. What more she should expect from that mage?

Soon after, one of Cullen’s soldiers who was exploring an area further ahead returned wishful with other two officers. “Commander, we found a place not far from here, well sheltered from strong winds and stable ground. Other soldiers are escorting the area in search of wild animals or other hazards that might threaten the villagers, but it seems like an ideal place to set up a camp.”

“Perfect.” A dull reaction to the officer’s news denoted a fatigue growing intense on Commander’s body. He acknowledged his soldier and ordered the groups to follow the officer, but Cullen decided to stay behind.

“Cullen, we need to move on!” Cassandra exploded in exasperation. The warrior held on to the commander’s arm harshly. “Also, you need a rest. You are no longer reasoning properly! If the Herald manages to escape, he will locate us.”

“Cassandra, this blizzard between us… Do you think that if the Herald… Maker, have mercy-“ Cullen breathed deeply after the whispered prayer, “-if he is injured, how will he be able to locate us? Someone needs to stay behind-” his eyes wide and static stared at the warrior “I have faith that he will make it. But we need to give him the opportunity.”

“We let a series of embers behind, I am sure if he’s smart enough, he will follow the path. We cannot risk anyone else, and we certainly won’t risk you, Cullen.” Leliana tone was smoother. “We set up the camp and pray. We will remain vigilant.”

The Commander, after reflecting for a while, decided to take Leliana and Cassandra’s suggestion against his will, and headed with the refugees towards the place pointed out by the soldiers.


	3. You've Got a Friend - Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the world is falling apart, we find support in places where we least expect it. The journey of the young elven researcher Renée as an agent of the newly reformed Inquisition begins after leaving behind her academic life at the University of Orlais seeking for recognition. But she did not expect her life to take such an unexpected turn.
> 
> Inquisition is settled now in a new ground: Skyhold. New allies for Renée, and also new challenges. A revelation that could put the researcher's future in Inquisition at stake.

The inquisition camp had been set up with admirable agility and Cullen, still absorbed in his thoughts about whether the Herald was able to save himself or not, paced from side to side, always sending his gaze on the path between the mountains that led to Haven. The injured people were receiving proper care, and a young boy with a peculiar guise was walking through each one of the tents seeking to relieve the pain of villagers and officers in a way that was beyond the medical capabilities of mages and nurses.

“This boy is tireless. Who is he? I never saw him in Haven.” Renée watched the young man walking back and forth, amazed at the attention he paid to those people. The sweetness in his appearance and the unusual way in which he dressed, notably the big hat he carried on his head, contrasted with two shiny and sharp blades that he wore sheathed on his back. That boy instigated her curiosity.

"Can you see him?" questioned Solas, somewhat curious, but with a still-serene countenance. The mage was sitting next to Renée outside one of the tents, studying some notes and maps he carried with him.

"How come? Of course I can.” She looked puzzled, and immediately sought the mysterious boy again with a look to confirm that she was not hallucinating. As she feared, he had disappeared before her eyes.

"But-" Renée frowned, looking around, confused. "I think I need to get some sleep."

"Not at all." Solas smiled. “Well, maybe so, but not for that reason. It is possible that we are in the company of a spirit, but I still need more information.”

"Spirit…?" she asked, surprised.

Solas put the paperwork aside and a satisfied smile broke across his lips.

"Most likely." The mage was still following the young man with his eyes, waiting for permission to proceed with his explanation.

"Sorry for my audacity... Solas-" Renée rubbed her hands nervously, while, for a moment, she had completely forgotten about the existence of that enigmatic boy. "But I heard you and Lavellan talking there in Haven... a few times... and I noticed that you have a very broad knowledge on this topic-"

This was probably the cue Solas was waiting for. He turned to face her with an evident expression of delight on his face.

“There is no need to apologize. Have you any interest in this subject?”

Renée hesitated and her cheeks went pink with her own boldness. Perhaps she shouldn't have mentioned that she secretly listened to conversations between the two mages. But all that talk about Fade, magic, spirits and demons immensely aroused her curiosity.

"Eh... actually, yes." Renée was clasping one hand tightly against the other and her voice came out shaky and weak. She tried at all costs to avoid facing the mage.

"I thought you were only interested in matters of the physical world, professor." Solas wore a provocative smile on his lips, observing her with intent eyes. Renée couldn't hold a shy, restrained laugh and her blush intensified even more.

“Y-you don't need to call me a professor, Solas-"

"Why not?" Solas interrupted her. “Didn't you spend so many years at the university devoting your time to researching? I believe that you have been very privileged to have enough knowledge to be able to teach the next generations. Why else should you not hold a teaching title?”

Renée couldn't help but turn her eyes on the mage. A look full of shame, after all, she’d have abandoned her vocation entirely for a selfish purpose. Or at least that was what she considered.

"It's very kind of you, Solas."

They exchanged a lingering silent gaze, but were interrupted by Commander Cullen's distressed cries in the distance, announcing the return of the Herald who lay unconscious in his arms. Renée ran hurriedly to meet her friend, calling for Agnes to help with his healing.

  
  


***

  
  


"You thought you would get rid of me, eh?" Lavellan's almost inaudible, languid voice woke Renée from her little nap, while she sat beside him in vigil. Alarmed, she approached her face from his, as trying to believe that her friend had woken up in the real world and not in one of her dreams.

"Fenlaros!" She brought her hands close to his face, but avoided touching it. The idea that he’d disappear there, before her eyes, as he did in several of her nightmares that she had while she slept, was terrifying.

"I came back, grumpy." Lavellan took one of Renee's hands, and his loose grip revealed that he was still debilitated. He was struggling to keep his eyes opened.

"Fen... you need to rest." 

The Herald frowned in curiosity.

" _Fen_?" A loose, affectionate smile revealed easily on the Herald's face. "I like that name even more."

Their hands still connected, Renée squeezed them with tenderness a little more in response. Her troubled countenance gave way to a shy smile, realizing her own boldness in calling the Herald by that nickname in such a spontaneous way. The sweetness of the moment was broken by a sudden grimace showing on the mage's face as he studied the researcher's face.

"You got hurt-" He brought one of his free hands to Renee's face, touching gently the edge of a deep, recent scar on her lips. "What happened?" The concern was evident and Lavellan was almost trying to get up to assess the wound closely.

Renée shook her head vehemently and, holding his both hands firmly, she tried to force him to abandon that idea.

“Nothing serious happened, Fen. Agnes helped me, actually. If it wasn't her-”

“ _If it wasn't he_ r? Who is Agnes? What happened?" The Herald was making a huge effort to avoid his eyes to get shut and keep his mind aware, but he was failing terribly.

"Lavellan!" Renée raised her voice, letting herself go with irritation. “Listen, Agnes is a friend… she helped you recover now and… I'm here, aren't I? Nothing else matters. Except that you rest and recover completely.”

The Herald, after evaluating his friend for a moment, considered taking her advice and relaxed in his bed, but he still had the worried look on her.

“Try to get some sleep. If you prefer, I'll stay here with you.” Impatient, the researcher looked away, but her desire to remain there with Fenlaros until he was completely healed was impossible to avoid.

"Stay with me. Please."

His languorous pleading relieved Renée of her tension. Surrendering to his wish, she then left the weight of her head fall in the corner of Lavellan's neck, kneeling beside his bed in a clearly uncomfortable position, but she didn’t care. Their hands still interlaced above his torso, she tightened her grip around his fingers as if trying to prevent him from being taken away again in another brutal way. She felt a lasting, soft kiss on the top of her head, and then his warm, weak breath as he rested his own head on hers. They both found comfort in each other’s presence and it didn't take long for them to fall asleep together.

Renée was awakened a moment later by the soft touch of a figure with a serene countenance wearing the Chantry robes.

“Child, you need to get some rest. Stretch your body. I can keep looking for the Herald.”

  
  


***

  
  


A few days had passed since Lavellan had returned to the refugee camp. His recovery was fast and the team of advisors could not waste any more time in deciding the future and the new base for the Inquisition, after all, Corypheus's threat was still imminent and his objective was now more than clear. Solas had mentioned a fortress due north that perhaps could serve the purposes of the order and Lavellan would then be in charge of guiding the flock and strengthening his leadership, bringing faith and hope to those who had once lost it.

The losses have been great since then. Many of the wounded did not resist and died before they could witness the rebirth of the Inquisition in new territories. The journey took weeks, but the positive feeling that the Herald began to awaken in those afflicted souls seems to have eased the arduous path and many assumed that, in fact, the Dalish elf would have been sent by Andraste, although he himself disbelieved that fate.

The final destination of the pilgrimage appeared before the eyes of travelers as soon as they reached the last ridge north of the Frostback Mountains. Skyhold stood magnificent in the midst of the rocky slope, a monumental building strategically positioned on the border between Ferelden and Orlais, the ideal place for the establishment of the new base of operations.

With renewed hope, the need to nominate a concrete leadership became relevant at that time. And the name for such a position was more than clear in the eyes of the councilors, someone who has built a reliable connection among the allies, bringing them to salvation. From Herald of Andraste to Inquisitor, Fenlaros Lavellan was crowned amid a great celebration in Skyhold, committing himself as an elf, to represent all peoples.

  
  


***

  
  


The new Inquisition base needed many repairs before it started operating regularly. The injured who arrived from the long journey were scattered in the front yard of Skyhold in an improvised camp waiting for due care. Agnes was assisting in the healing along with the available nurses, but many of the cases were beyond their capabilities and lives were still being lost. The mage was feeling overwhelmed, and so she decided to step away from the patients for a moment. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes seeking an instant of peace.

“ _You think that if he were here, things would be different. But you are equally capable. And he thinks about you too._ ”

A sweet voice resonated like a breeze blowing gently against the leaves on a tree. It wasn't inside her head, but everywhere. There was no questioning or desire to know who had proclaimed those words. A refreshing feeling filled Agnes' heart with hope, even in the midst of that chaotic scenario, a feeling that sparked a smile on her face motivating her to return to her duty. The reverie was broken by Droolius barking incessantly to the air.

“What is it, boy? You can't make all that noise around the sick, you know?” The mage petted her canine fellow trying to calm him down. Renée approached with a puzzled look on her face, inspecting around.

"Are you okay, Agnes?"

The dog emitted a final woof and then rushed frenzied after a mosquito.

"This guy is crazy!" said the mage confused, witnessing her friend running away. "Yes! I’m okay, yes. I just needed to take a little breath, but-” She paused, sighing deeply with a broad smile on her face. "I don't know, I'm feeling something good _here_ , you know?" She placed a hand on her own chest. “Anyway, if you don't mind, I need to get back there again. They need me. Talk to you later?"

"Sure, sure, we talk later."

The elf left the nursing tents, letting her friend go about her duty. But something nearby was still puzzling her. Something amidst that atmosphere she couldn’t tell exactly what. The concern kept her unaware from her trajectory, and a collision against a person on her way was inevitable.

"Whoops, sorry, I-"

Back to reality, she realized the person she collided was that mysterious young man with the big hat she had met during their journey to Skyhold. He was there, before her eyes once again. All his dedication to soothe the villagers' pain came to her mind, however, not the conversation she had had with Solas about him.

"I remember you. You were helping the wounded in the refugee camp.” She smiled at him. "I don't think we were ever introduced."

The boy looked away shyly, but he was still very curious about that elf.

"Do you… remember?"

Renée tittered with his adorable innocence. "I do remember. Your attitude impressed me at the time. Are you a mage?”

He slowly shook his head in denial, still avoiding her gaze. “I'm Cole. You can call me that.”

"Okay. Cole, then. Nice to meet you, I'm R-"

"I-I wish I had talked to you before-" the boy interrupted, stammering. "But your friend would be enraged by my presence. That is why she cannot see me, nor remember me."

Renée frowned, confused. “Agnes? How can she not-” 

At that point, all that conversation she had had with Solas returned to her memory and she felt a tingle at the back of her neck.

“S-she doesn't like my kind. But she has her reasons. She thinks I could also hurt someone she loves. But I just want to help. And she needs help too.” Cole responded apprehensively, but Renée remained silent. “Her song is loud but yours is louder. I couldn’t fight from listening. His soul craved for justice, the same justice who saved you once… They were too many, hungry, hurting, raising hell. But you tried to help. It was not your fault-”

The elf brought both hands to her mouth in shock as thousands of thoughts and memories ran over her head like a landslide. But none of them referred to fear. And Cole knew it.

“You can remember me because you are curious. You don't want to run away or hurt me.” The boy finally gazed at her with those crystal blue eyes behind light blond strands of hair, and she could then see his features clearer. There was something supernatural about that pale, young face, and Renée desired to hear more. What else could that entity tell about her, about her past? Would he really be able to help alleviate her pain? But a shy, single tear rolled down the researcher's face, so Cole retreated, brushing it gently away from her face with his thumb. “Your grief is familiar to me. But you don't want to forget it, although you avoid looking back at the moon. I could help. Ask me, and I’ll come for your aid.”

And so, again, the boy disappeared in midair, but his memories still remained vivid in her mind. However the problem with her friend Agnes was screaming louder in her head, since she seemed to be indeed in need of help, and the mage would never request assistance from the elf openly. Renée remembered clearly her distress when she mentioned her friend in the Circle of Magi but the issue was still a mystery, after all, Agnes had suddenly been silent on the matter and avoided talking about it at all costs.

  
  


***

  
  


"Come. Let's have a beer. Looks like the tavern is already running.”

The day after, Renée decided to pick up Agnes from the nursery tents hoping to make her open up.

"Beer?" She watched around with concern, but the healer who was caring for the injured gave the mage the endorsement she was needing.

"Good. If you insist!"

The traditional “Herald’s Rest” also opened the doors in its new home in Skyhold, now under the care of Cabot, the dwarf from Orzammar who chose to try his life on the surface. The bartender glowered when the two ladies approached his counter.

“Good night, sir. Could you give us two beers, pl-”

Renée barely finished her order but the dwarf turned his back and walked away. They both looked at each other shrugging, disconcerted.

“Service here is as _good_ as the drinks they serve. Better to get used to it if you still seek to be inebriated in this awful frosty place.”

A man dressed in leather robes, bronze colored skin, and dazzling face features that seemed to have been sculpted by a skillful artist, was sitting before the counter tasting a drink that was definitely below his liking, although he continued to sip with unique class. Both girls couldn’t avoid their curiosity on that particular customer and remained watching him speechless.

"Pardon, my ladies, my name is Dorian. Pleased to meet you." The man glanced with his pale gray eyes, while smoothing one of the edges of his perfectly curved mustache. His melodious voice sounded friendly, although his penetrating gaze caused some restlessness.

"The pleasure is all ours." Agnes smiled broadly. Bewitched by his exotic beauty, she reclined loose on the counter while Renée kept admiring him in silence.

"Certainly," he replied with evident satisfaction, sipping his drink again.

Cabot then returned with two large mugs with the same drink Dorian tasted. "Hey. I'm keeping an eye on you, _Vint_.” The dwarf pushed the cups sloppily toward the girls, giving the man a disapproving look.

"Nothing new, dwarf." Dorian rolled his eyes, evidently displeased.

Renée pulled out a mug for herself. "Well, at least we have our drinks," she stated shyly, intending to get rid of the tense atmosphere.

“Agnes. My name is Agnes.” The mage tried to do the same, introducing herself. She attempted to reach for her mug but her eyes were still locked on the man. Her hand was waving pointlessly in the air while trying to hold the mug strap and the elf, noticing the struggle of her friend, moved slowly the drink closer to her hand. "Thanks. Well, and she is Renée.”

The researcher raised her mug in silence as if encouraging unpretentiously a solitary toast. Touched by her attitude, Dorian raised his own, and Agnes followed the initiative.

"To bad drinks?" he suggested.

"To grumpy attendants!" Renée shot back and a disgusted growl from Cabot could be heard in the distance.

"And great companies!" Agnes finished, and then everyone took a sip of the Herald's Rest's peculiar drink. Grimaces could not be avoided, but the amount of alcohol was sufficient for the sought purpose. They all rolled the drink inside their cheeks before swallowing completely and the sound of difficult gulping was audible almost simultaneously. Exchanging looks with a frown, they send mocking smiles to each other.

"Get ready for the hangover tomorrow." Dorian hurriedly took the last sip of his mug, carelessly setting the mug down on the counter.

“We heard the barkeeper calling you… _Vint_ -” Renée gathered some courage with the alcohol aid. “What does that mean?”

The man chuckled graciously, fingering the woods on the countertop casually.

“It means I come from Tevinter,” he explained politely, “I’m a mage, by the way. Seeing that you may be familiar with the matter.” He said, pointing to Agnes Circle’s robes.

“I-I’m not. She is,” the elf stuttered, flustered.

“A Tevene mage?” Agnes questioned with curiosity. “Were you related to Alexius… by any means?”

Dorian smiled wistfully. “He _was_ my mentor.”

Noticing the discomfort caused by the subject, Agnes realized she shouldn’t keep digging into it, but the words failed to help her fix the unease.

“Please, do not worry about that, ma’am-” Dorian himself brushed off the unresting atmosphere, “In fact, I am glad inquisitor Lavellan decided by seizing upon Alexius knowledge on magic for the Inquisition’s benefits.” He broke into a tender smile. “It was a smart decision, and this lad does not cease to impress me.” He muttered in an affectionate tone. Shaking his head as trying to wake up from a vivid dream, Dorian moved away with his seat from the counter.

“Your company was truly enjoyable, my ladies, but I’m afraid my time has come.”

"Wouldn't you join us in one more drinking round?" Agnes' request sounded almost ruefully, as soon as she noticed the man was preparing to leave. Dorian took pity on the mage's melancholic countenance and, with a rejoicing smile, he pinched delicately one of her cheeks, an attitude that made her face flush as fire.

“I know, I know, my presence is extremely pleasant. But, unfortunately, I _really_ need to leave,” he stressed, rising from his seat. “Other opportunities will certainly come. Perhaps, next time with the delightful presence of our lovely inquisitor Lavellan. When he accepts my invitation, obviously.” Moving away towards the door, he reiterated. “You can usually find me at the library. Call me, in case you decide to taste this alcoholic wonder of Thedas again.”

Renée couldn't help but giggle and, admiring Dorian's wiggle as he left the tavern, she nudged Agnes with her elbow.

"I think he likes you." The elf sibilated a little because of alcohol.

"I wish.” The mage moved her mug in circles, watching the liquid spinning in a dense vortex inside. “That cutie seems to be more interested in your friend Lavellan than anything else.”

The elf startled. “Oh.” She took a lingering sip of her drink while reflecting about that idea for a moment. “Well, Agnes. I actually called you here because… well, first, because I owed you this beer.” She sent her a friendly soft smile.

“Did you owe me? Oh, it's true! You remember!" 

"Of course. Well, and second… because I’m worried about you.” The elf's countenance changed to a dismayed look, but Agnes didn't understand and shrugged in silence, sipping her drink carelessly. "You know… I was thinking about that friend of yours from the Circle-"

Alarmed, the mage dropped her mug hastily on the counter and gripped Renée's arm with one hand.

"Not here," she said almost whispering, glancing over around with a suspicious look. "Right. Let's search for a table upstairs.”

  
  


***

  
  


The silence and restlessness of the mage was bordering on unpleasant and the buzz of people accompanied by Maryden's songs began to bother Renée.

“Agnes, you're scaring me, actually. What can be that bad?”

The mage bit her own lips and looked sideways in dismay. Then, after a long exhalation, she rested her forehead on her hands. "It's pretty bad, elf." Facing her friend again, she asked, "You know why this is all happening, don't you?" She asked, waving her hands around, referring to the restoration of the Inquisition.

Renée shrugged. "Well, there was that explosion during the conclave and-"

"Yes. The conclave. ” The mage interrupted. "And do you know why the conclave was called?"

The topic seemed to be serious enough to have so many questions before the subject was finally exposed. The elf moved uncomfortably in her chair, a little uncertain about how to answer. “I heard things got a little tense between Templars and-” she made a dramatic pause and swallowed, “Mages. But I'm not really sure how it all started.”

A wave of nervous laughter washed over Agnes and Renée took an alarmed leap.

"I-I’m sorry," she said, wiping away a tear that rolled down her face and Renée couldn’t tell if it was because of sadness or the result of uncontrolled laughter. "I didn't want to involve you in this either, but we ended up getting so close in the past few weeks and, after everything that happened, I felt comfortable around you..."

"Not that much, as far as I can tell." The elf was still staring at her in fright, but the feeling of concern was growing. Apparently, the closeness between both girls was becoming greater, but that whole mystery was not making any sense. "Was this friend of yours involved in any way in this fight?"

Agnes' heart skipped a beat. Eyes wide and lips parted, an expression of dread mixed with discontent, she exhaled in frustration.

"Perhaps it is not right to involve you in this, elf."

“Ah, come on." Renée laughed, already annoyed. “Please, woman. Spit it out!" The request sounded loud just in the interval between one of Maryden’s song and another, and some people who were at tables nearby on the top floor were looking confused at them.

Agnes shook her head and murmured. “Do you realize how much of a problem it can cause to you here? Even more you being so close to the Inquisitor himself!”

“He and no one else needs to know. Go on. This will end up killing you. And me,” Renée asked impatiently.

Recognizing that there would be no escape, Agnes thought to herself what else could go wrong, besides everything that had already happened.

"Right. Tell me, did you hear about the events that took place in Kirkwall four years ago?”

"Any specific?" Renée mocked, trying to relieve the tension of that conversation a little, but apparently it had the opposite effect.

"This is serious, elf." Agnes sighed. Again, looking around and approaching her friend, she asked in a whisper, "Remember the Chantry explosion?"

"Sure. That was an act of terrorism-”

The mage's face frowned in a way that made Renée regret bitterly trying to look so informed, interrupting immediately her statement. But then something triggered in her head and everything started to make sense. Agnes' hesitation had a purpose. If the person with whom she was an intimate acquaintance was in fact involved in the event that prompted the Kirkwall rebellion that ended up collapsing the entire Circle of Magi system across all of Thedas, it was something that really could lead the elf to find serious problems within the Inquisition. But even so, she was willing to repay what the mage had done for her in Haven.

“I’m sorry, elf. Look, we can just wrap it up here.” Her eyes began to mist. “You've already done a lot listening to me.” 

"No way!" Renée held the mage's hands with determination and looked her straight in the eye. A sudden fear arose in her heart, a fear of losing everything by risking the path to her future once again, after all, she would be now aiding a criminal. But at the same time, she felt she should do it. She breathed, trying to organize her thoughts again. “Where is this person? Is he in need of help?”

The woman sighed and tried to wipe away the tears so she could see her friend clearer.

“I know where he is. But I can't reveal it here,” she mentioned in a quiet tone. “The problem is, apparently, the entity that led him to do all this is trying to bring him down once again. As if everything that has already happened wasn’t enough.” Sadness and anguish gave way to a look full of anger and outrage.

" _Entity_? You mean that-"

“Yes, besides all, my friend is an abomination. It was a mistake, obviously, but the binding happened because... well, because he thought it would be the right thing to do. Damn spirits!” The mage pounded the table, making Renée jump again with a start.

_Cole_.

The boy Renée had spoken to a few minutes ago came to mind. He knew that the mage carried this revulsion for spirits and probably knew her motives. However, he acknowledged that she needed help and revealed Renée nonetheless. How did he manage to do that? What if he could offer some assistance in this matter? No, bringing in another entity where they were clearly not welcome, perhaps it was not a good idea at the time, she thought. Then she should find another way. There would certainly be another way.

“Look, Agnes. We will find a way to solve this. I promise you that I will find a solution.”

"You do not have to do this. You know," said the mage with regret in her eyes.

Renée took her hands again and a friendly smile broke across her lips. Something much bigger was at stake here.

"Do not worry. I want to do this for you. That's what friends do, isn't it?”


End file.
